Plans are Afoot! RP1 for EOD Round 3

[Bobby Barratt]

The scene opens backstage right after Witching Hour has concluded. "Monster Mash" is still playing in the background on loop as fans exit the arena, thrilled with what their ticket price brought them. Bobby holds a bag of ice to the back of his neck, clearly feeling the effects of tonight's match up with rookie Eric Chronister, who brought more to the table than he anticipated.

Bobby: Eric... You came, you fought....Hell you fought a great fight tonight. You threw everything you had at me and I'd love to say that any other night you might have had that one.....But that's not the case. Eric you lost because I had experience. Years and years and years of experience that chiselled me into the veteran of the ring that I am. Years that forged me into the uncrowned winner of End of Days. You may have had the size and power advantage, but I've been fighting against those two attributes my whole damn career. You think I didn't know how to deal with another meathead who claimed he had it made as a Wrestler because he'd done time in the joint?

In walks Maverick. He's a little bit sheepish after almost costing Bobby the match there with the distraction. 

Bobby: Oh, here he is! Dude what the fuck were you thinking there? 

Maverick: You looked like you were strug-

Bobby: Don't even imply that I looked like I was struggling! Antics like that and not focusing on your own business is why I had to put down Chronister myself and it wasn't an Iconic showdown tonight! 

Maverick: Alright, I'm sorry, OK?

Bobby: That's all I wanted to hear.

Bobby begins removing his kneepads and unlacing his boots as he speaks.

Bobby: So who is it next week? I was too busy prepping...You know, being the main event and all.

Maverick: Duke...

Bobby: Duke?! Seriously?! For fuck's sake, how did he overcome Dreadvan? The guy looked immovable.

Maverick: Usual slimy Duke tactics, I'm lead to believe. He ended up with the DQ win when Dread nailed him in the head with a crowbar.

Bobby: Ouch!

Maverick: Yeah it split him open like a Melon.

Bobby: Oh, I bet he's doing his "taste the blood" gimmick then. Licking his fingers and all that gross shit that he used to do.

Maverick: What?

Bobby: Ah I think it was before your time. He's just a sick fuck. Either way, next week sees me take on Duke Kosloff. A guy I've butted heads with many times. I believe the last time, he was trying to cash in a briefcase on me in ICW and I pummelled him and walked out still champion.

#ANDSTILL shows in the bottom left corner of the screen as a trending topic.

Bobby: Now Duke, we've gone toe to toe many times. At no stage in any of our careers have we considered ourselves anything less that sworn fucking enemies and that is NOT about to change. I'm going into this match and I'm not aiming to defeat you... I'm going to END you. Lockdown truly will be your...

Maverick: Say it.

Bobby: End....Of....Days!

Maverick: CUT!!

---

We come back and Bobby is in a shed. It looks fairly well decked out for tools and supplies. After a few seconds a short, stocky man with dark hair and a beard walks in. He's dressed fairly simple, wearing a plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. 

Al: Hey there, pleased to meet ya!

He wipes his hands on a rag before extending his hand to shake Bobby's. Bobby reluctantly shakes Al's hand before applying a liberal amount of sanitiser to his hands. Al has already gone back to his bench by this point and is looking over blueprints that are rolled out and weighted down with screwdrivers.

Al: So. I just have to get my head around this. You're looking for a chair?

Bobby: Indeed I am. In fact, it's no normal chair. See I'm a member of the XHF Network and this week I'll be taking on a mountain of a man. 

Bobby pulls up Duke Kosloff's bio on his phone, to show it to Al.

Bobby: He's a huge dude and the match is based on which of us is the first to strap the other to a chair and electrify him.

Al: You need me to make you an Electric Chair?!

Bobby: I told you this was a specialist project. As you can see, he and myself aren't exactly anatomically even. Me and my buddies have been kicking down doors, taking names and kicking arse for a while now and I want to make sure that the boys that run the XHF offices don't throw a chair in that I'm not going to be able to fit his oversized, gigantic arse into in order to thwart me.

Al: Well I mean....I can make it, but you're going to want a certified Electrician to take a look at the actual wiring of it.

Bobby: Of course. So...All materials involved...I throw you a pair of tickets for the show and a shoutout...What am I looking at?

Al: Hmmm...Well I'm going to need a lot of wood.

Bobby: Provided you don't expect me to give you wood, we're good. I'm talking cash payment here, buddy.

Al: What?

Bobby: What?

Al: Anyways...As I say I'm going to need a lot of w-....TIMBER in differing sizes. This thing's going to need a lot of structural support. To turn this around in time for Friday....I can probably do it for a couple of grand?

Internally, Bobby is screaming "NO!!" but he wants to play it calm. He knows he can't afford this, but he still has the gig going with regards to no one knowing his secret.

Bobby: Hmmm. OK, let me go away and think about it and I'll come back to you soon, OK?

Al: Sure thing!

Bobby thanks Al, before leaving the shed. He heads towards the taxi rank as his phone rings.

RING! RING!

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Bobby: Yeah? 

....

Bobby: It has? Where? 

....

Bobby: I'll get right over! 

Bobby hangs up the phone, a look of excitement is on his face. 

Bobby: Yes! They found the Impala! I have to get over there right now! 

Bobby starts walking quickly towards the taxi rank now. His slow plod has been replaced by something just a little bit short of a jog.

Bobby: I mean it's only been a few days, but I can't stand public transport! I swear I rode the bus the other day and I had to go home and shower four times....FOUR TIMES just from being in the vicinity of those piss-sodden, scum of society types that ride those things....Fucking peasant wagons, man! So it was taxi's all the way after that. I mean it smells no better, but at least the driver lets you pick the tracks!

Bobby arrives at the taxi rank and hails down the first cab available, shouldering past a young single mother trying to control three kids. She looks like she's had enough before this happens and she's trying to open the door to berate Bobby as he sits on the back seat, trying to ignore her.

Bobby: An extra twenty dollars on your fare if you lock the doors and soak the shit out of her with that puddle there.

The driver is only too happy to comply. The fare is only about 10 dollars anyway, so he's sorted! The car speeds off into the distance as the woman is stood there, absolutely soaked with three distressed kids and looks as if she wants the world to open up and swallow her up. The ride passes uneventfully. The driver tries to make small talk, but all he gets are one word answers and grunts from Bobby, who is using his phone, checking out the match between Duke and Dreadvan.

Bobby: Those two tore shreds off each other!

Bobby has the driver drop him around the corner from where he was told to arrive. He begrudgingly pays up the extra 20 dollars, thinking to himself that he would have given the guy a thousand dollars to do that a few months back. As he rounds the corner, his eyes widen in despair as he is greeted with the sight of his car....But not as he knows it...The sleek, unblemished paintwork of the classic car he knew has been replaced so it looks more like this:

Bobby: What the FUCK?!!

Cop: Mr. Barratt?

Bobby: Yeah....Yeah that's me.

Cop: Mr. Barratt, I'm Officer Blake. We got the call about your car a few hours ago. It's taken us this long to get the fire under control and get a VIN number to identify it. I'm sorry sir, but it's unrecoverable. 

Bobby: No shit...

Cop: Excuse me?

Bobby: Nothing, I'm sorry, Officer.

Cop: I trust you can get this picked up and dealt with?

Bobby: I'll get right onto my insurance company. 

Cop: Thank you...Have a good day, sir.

With that, Officer Blake is gone. Back into her squad car and headed off to tend to other business as Bobby gets on the phone to get this mess cleared up.

---

Coming back, we see Bobby walking into the Diamond Lounge. He looks dishevelled and fed up. Today has not gone well for him. 

Jack: Hey!

Bobby grimaces at the sound of Jack's voice. He knows Jack is about to rib him. Turning around, he sees the X*Crown Champion beaming ear to ear with his trademark winning smile. 

Jack: Nice performance at Witching Hour, my man! What's happened to you, though?

Bobby: Well the Impala is burned out. I think some kids jacked it when I was-

Jack: When you were what?

Bobby: When I was training....at the Gym!

Jack: Ah. You need me to sort out another set of wheels for you while the Insurance company drag it out?

Bobby: Nah, I'm good. I picked up a runaround for the time being. It's something I wouldn't exactly want to be seen in, but there you go.

Jack: Don't you still have the A-team van hanging around? 

Bobby: Yeah I thought about that, but I'm thinking of letting her go. I've never even driven in and only bought it so we could make a point in a promo once. Battery is probably no good by now.

Jack: I can have my guy take a look if you want? He's pretty good.

Bobby: Nah, I'm good. 

Jack: Well let's go take a look at this runaround you decided to grace us with. Anything good enough for an Icon is tidy car, right?

Bobby: How about another time? I gotta go and get changed. I smell of society and poverty.

Jack: Sure thing man. Hey, while you're upstairs, Duke dropped a promo on you. Might want to check that out and see what shit he's been talking.

Bobby heads off to the elevator as Jack peeks out of the door. There's only his own car and a 1998 Renault Clio sitting in the car park. Jack's face shows a look of absolute disgust, before shifting slightly to a curious face, as to why Bobby wouldn't have just gone to a dealer and brought a new car. 

---

We come back and Bobby is finishing up watching Duke Kosloff's upload to the XHF Network. He rubs his eyes. That was a really long rant Duke just went off on. He turns off the TV.

Bobby: Dukey, Dukey, Duke. You've given me so much to talk about, but that last thing I'd want to do is turn into a rambling mess like you did just there. One thing I will say though...

Bobby slow claps.

Bobby: For the first five minutes, it looks like Mr. Kosloff finally learned how to cut a promo! Kudos, man! I mean sure, you're still sitting in front of a PC and uploading shitty pixelated webcam videos to the Network site, but small steps man....small steps! Problem is, I swear I nodded off half way through that and when I woke up, I though the video was on loop and I was watching it all over again! Nope...It was the same video with the same point made about three times. 

Bobby puts on a Russian accent.

Bobby: Rahh, Rahh...It is up to me if you live or die. You will be within an inch of a wheelchair!

Bobby laughs to himself.

Bobby: Duke do you not think that my health, my wellbeing and my victory is in my OWN hands? Do you not think that the man that has soundly defeated you and ANY member of your former mafia-lite group that dared face him has just one iota of control in this match? Are you really so deluded to believe that you're going to walk in and dominate this match in such a fashion? Saying I'm going to be crippled by fear, leaving me unable to do what I always do....shut you up! Let me tell you something here. If you don't have just an ounce of fear in you every time you step through those ropes, then you aren't respecting the dangers of the ring. If you don't believe for a second that any match you take part in could be your last, then you don't understand what can happen in there. I have defeated GODS in that ring and I'm supposed to be afraid of a guy who bottles out of calling himself the Devil himself?

Bobby opens a bottle of water that was laying next to him on the chair. Taking a sip, he pauses for thought before tossing the bottle aside. He gets up and heads over to the french windows, flinging them open and walking out onto the balcony of his room. The sunset is right ahead. Jack made sure that Icon rooms got the best views. 

Bobby: Duke, if you're so set on going down memory lane, let's do that. You called me out for crying at the funeral of my friend. Of the man that helped set the wheels in motion for the Icons. The only man back then I ever called a true friend. Well no shit, Sherlock! I'm sure if someone close to you died, you wouldn't be too happy either, but there's a difference between what I do OUT of the ring and what I do when I step through those ropes. Every time I have got into the ring with you, I've done nothing but beat you up. Sure, I believe you got a win just after the funeral in tag competition, but maybe I've taken a knock to the head too many, but you didn't defeat ME! The man you stand alongside has also never beaten me. Both yourself and Chaos have come after my title in the past. Guess what? I still hold it. What does that tell you about my chances this weekend? What does that tell you about who I may or may not fear? You want to know what I fear? You want to know what drives me? I'll show you my weaknesses Duke....Failure. The fear of failing is what drives me! The fear of not being on top in this business. Not running the table and being past my fucking prime. One of the guys that consistently underachieves, never reaching his potential...In other words....You. You've consistently fucked up opportunities you should have never had. 

Bobby lights up a cigarette.

Shit that got handed to you by your cousins...No not Dreadvan...Not Nuke...Hell are they actually even your cousins, or are you just fucking with people? I swear to God, if you try and pull that bullshit with me, I'll rip your arms off and beat you with the soggy end! The fact is that come End of Days: Lockdown....I'll be strapping you to a chair like the gimp that Levi always used you as....Then I'll proceed to pass hundreds of volts throughout your body until the top of your head smokes! That's exactly how it's going to go down on Sunday! You can take that to the bank!

Bobby finishes up his smoke, tossing the butt of the cigarette over the balcony to the ground below. We see the butt fall as the camera follows it all the way down. As it lands right in front of Bobby's new ride as the scene fades.